


Night Shift

by busaikko



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Community: sga_kinkmeme, F/M, Medical Kink, Other, Unconscious Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-10-31
Updated: 2010-10-31
Packaged: 2017-10-12 23:53:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/130538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/busaikko/pseuds/busaikko
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: Jennifer/John, unconscious, object insertion, non-con/dub-con; Jennifer just can't help herself. (http://community.livejournal.com/sga_kinkmeme/3923.html?thread=539987#t539987)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Shift

Jennifer just can't help herself. It's two in the morning and she's the only one on duty because there's only one patient. John Sheppard had an unfortunate allergic reaction off-world, and the medications have left him completely knocked out behind the privacy curtain.

She'd been checking the Ancient monitor John's catheter tube fed into (good volume and quality, no problems) and remembering how John had protested when Marie told him _legs spread, feet together, Colonel._ Jennifer had been stealing a moment of quiet to fill in John's chart, and it had been easy enough to watch how Marie worked gracefully in the sterile field, gloved hands holding John's penis as she slid the tube in. John had kept his face turned away to the side like he did every time, breathing purposefully steady, as if he was trying to distance himself.

When Jennifer had set up the IV and told him it would probably put him to sleep, he gave her a weak smile and said that was fine by him. His eyes were still swollen and red, and the red rash on his chest was still itching. He was very good about not scratching.

That figured, Jennifer thinks now, feeling something choking and angry rising up in her. She's dating Rodney now, she should be happy, but. . . . Having John around is like having an itch _she_ can't scratch. She knows he's bi, and probably would be mostly gay if he could. She knows he's honorable, and would never, ever tell Rodney how he feels about him. But his eyes give him away, the little glances towards Rodney, the way he bites his lips and looks so _broken_ to see Rodney happy.

Jennifer knows that John's never been the receptive partner in anal sex. She knows that the bed he's on has obstetric attachments that she prepared for Teyla's delivery.

She knows John will never know.

It's easy to get everything she needs. On Earth she worked with plastic disposables, but Carson outfitted the infirmary with reusable stainless steel. She takes out what she needs.

It's not easy to pull John down enough that she can get his knees up over the leg holders. He looks obscene, spread out before her. She pulls on her gloves, swaps his perianal area, and applies lube to the blades of the speculum. She kind of wishes that she could tell him to bear down; he wouldn't be able to relax, she thinks. It would be good to watch his face as she pushed the blades in. He wouldn't be able to stop her.

He can't stop her now, as she pushes it all the way in and spreads the blades wide and locks it. She looks down. John looks _decorated_ , the dilated hole of his anus ringed with stainless steel. Like so much of medicine, it's obscenely earthly and beautiful at the same time. John's discomfited, obviously sensing the violation at some level, stirring in his sleep. Jennifer checks the Velcro bands across his stomach and securing his legs and hands, and then goes to make herself a cup of tea.

She drinks it slowly, the whole time thinking of John with the speculum inside him. She wonders if he'll be sore tomorrow, if there will be an ache that he won't be able to explain. She hopes his body is clenching down against the invasion reflexively, trying to expel the speculum. She washes her mug and sets it in the drainboard, and then goes back to John.

He does look a little flushed and distressed, she thinks. She uses the Ancient scanner to check the level of the drugs in John's blood. He won't be waking up soon.

She pulls on another pair of gloves and picks up one of the uterine dilators from her tray. It's double-ended and eight inches long. She lubes it and slides it through the ring of the speculum, pushing against the inside walls of John's rectum. It feels like her first disastrous pelvic exam, when she could not for the life of her find the cervix. But she's done enough prostate exams to know where to direct the tip of the dilator.

"Come _on_ ," she says, and then presses her mouth shut. Patients do hear things when they're not conscious. She shouldn't take risks. She doesn't want Rodney to find out.

She's pretty sure she's rubbing the dilator right over John's prostate, moving the tip in a small circular motion. John's breathing hitches and changes, and his hips shift slightly, as much movement as he can manage against the restraints. She picks up another dilator and slides it in past the first, going as deep as she can and then pulling back, fucking him with it. Between that and the prostate stimulation, John's penis jerks and starts to fill.

In medical school she was taught that getting an erection around a catheter tube caused _discomfort_. She's since been informed, by one of the Marines, that it hurts _like having a scrub-brush shoved down his dick_. Sheppard never complains about pain, he won't even scratch an itch, but Jennifer thinks he's definitely in discomfort. His head turns and his mouth opens and he makes a distressed noise in his sleep.

Jennifer loves that he made that noise for her.

She pulls the dilators out and then the speculum, and swabs John's ass again. While the instruments are being cleaned and sterilized, she undoes the restraints and manhandles John back into place on the bed. She removes the obstetric attachments and puts them away, and then she puts the sterilized instruments away. There's nothing to hint at what happened except for some bruises and a little redness that will fade. John will be feeling that in the morning, but Jennifer doubts he'll say anything.

At seven o'clock Jennifer is getting ready to go off shift. Rodney shows up and gives her a clumsy good-morning kiss. He tastes like coffee and asks how John is doing.

"Good, he's doing good, he's," she's babbling like an idiot, "good." She smiles at him.

"Liar," Rodney says, looking bemused. "He's been bitching to get out of this place since whatever ungodly hour you woke him up to draw blood this morning."

"You should go say hello," Jennifer says. "I'll just. . . finish up." She waves a hand at her desk.

She can't really help herself, though. She has to stand so that she can look through the gap in the privacy curtain, where she can see John's face when Rodney shows up. He _lights up_ , the exhaustion and discomfort on his face washed away by a wide, pleased smile. Rodney asks something, and John waggles his hand and raises an eyebrow and Jennifer _hates_ him. _So much._

But she's never going to let anyone know that, no more than John's ever going to tell Rodney how he feels. She wonders when John's going to be in her care next, and whether she'll be able to help herself to him again.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Daybreak](https://archiveofourown.org/works/134976) by [Cesare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cesare/pseuds/Cesare)




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